Rogue Police Girl
by AStudyInScarletxx
Summary: AU! sort of. Seras Victoria was not created by Alucard, she doesn't even know who her creator is. The young Nosferatu is forced to fend for herself and to run when she becomes Alucard's next assignment. Question is, what seems so familiar about her? The No-Life King just can't seem to put his finger on it.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello there! Welcome to my first Hellsing FanFiction. I was listening to the opening songs again and this idea just popped into my head. If you like this _tester_ chapter then let me know so I can continue, but if this idea has already been done then please let me know so I can take it down. The last thing I wish to do is copy someone's work. **

**Without further ado I present the tester chapter of Rogue Police Girl...the title needs work I know, but in all fairness I don't even have the plot worked out yet.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing!**

 _I_ _t had been a long day at the station for 19 year old Seras Victoria. Filing and making cups of coffee and tea all day was not her career choice at all, but she was only a mere month away from sitting her examination which would determine if she joined the police academy. There was nothing the bright blue eyed girl wanted more than to be like her late father. Anything to make him proud. The sky was dark, the moon was full and the streets were desolate. Only a faint buzz of music could be heard, increasing in volume with each step. A cool breeze swept past, its icy fingers stroking against Seras' plump flushed cheeks. She wrapped her coat tighter around her generous frame before securing it with the belt. Britain was fast emerging into the winter season, and it was only just beginning to show. Seras could see the water vapour rise from her mouth and up into the sky in the dull orange street lamps. The young girl rounded a corner and was greeted by the offensive bright neon lights from the clubs and pubs. The entire length of the street was full of them, and Seras hated walking down it. The smell of tobacco and alcohol, as well as illegal substances, was pungent in the air. Enough to make anyone give a dry wretch. There was also the fact that when she walked between the hoards of drunk and randy men, she would always be addressed as 'nice tits' or have offers to nip around the back for a quick shag behind the bins. It made her skin crawl. There was one particular pub 'The Saucy Wench' which was particularly bad for abusive comments like that. There was always one man, short and stout with a cigarette in one hand and a pint in the other, who eyed Seras like a piece of meat every evening. That night was no exception._

 _Seras was walking on the edge of the pavement when that man turned his eyes to her. He gave a quick nudge to a friend before sniggering, "Hey up luv', fancy a shag!?" He laughed obnoxiously. Seras grit her teeth and carried on. Usually it would be left at that, but the man was feeling lucky. He started to follow her at a leisurely pace, staggering as he tried to keep his pint from sloshing out the glass, "Come on, you've go' a cracking pair o' tits!" Seras Victoria had had quite enough of the bawdy comments. She decided to retaliate. Being careful to watch her step on the cracked pavements she turned and flashed her teeth,_

 _"Thank you very much for the charming offer, I'll call you up on it when I want a case of the clap!" That didn't have much affect, instead only encouraging him. People from surrounding pubs started to look, huddled in smoking circles. The man laughed, the birds feet by his eyes creasing unpleasantly,_

 _"Why don't you suck o' this!" He grabbed his crotch while his friends laughed around him. Seras decided to hurt a man where he felt pain the most; his pride. Giving a wicked smirk she shouted back,_

 _"There's probably nothing there for me to use!" Yes it was unlike someone of her character to shout something so obscene, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She would say her prayers and apologise when she got home like a good little girl. That hit home. If there was one thing Seras had learned from the station, it was that no man liked having his 'manhood' insulted or even questioned. People from the surrounding area laughed, while his face flushed with rage,_

 _"Fuck you say skank?!" Seras was quick to turn on her heel and walk away, all the while hearing the people around him say 'just leave it mate' and 'she's not worth it'. Good, perhaps they would leave her alone now._

 _She was not far from home, the street of neon lights long behind her. Although the young girl had the most peculiar feeling. That she was being watched. Every time she glanced over her shoulder, there was no one. Maybe the odd stray cat here and there but nothing human._

 _She was one street away before she heard drunken slurs and shouting, followed by the sound of running. She glanced behind her to see the drunken oaf from 'The Saucy Wench'. He was alone, but the sight of his approaching form frightened Seras. He was quite a burly man, and even with the alcohol in his system she would be no match for him. Letting out a shriek of terror Seras set off running. All around her the terraced houses loomed high above her, not one with a single light peeking through the blinds. The further she ran, the narrower the streets seemed to become. She was not far from home, but there was still ample time for the drunk to catch up. Rounding a corner, Seras ducked into an alleyway located between the terraced house gardens. She was surrounded by brick and wood. She pressed her back against the cool walls, the cold biting the nerves of her back even through her layers. Her breathing was laboured, and she covered her mouth with a frost bitten hand. As the running came closer, Seras scooted along the wall taking caution not to trip on the cobble stones in her heels. She pressed herself further into the shadows as the man came into view. He came to a stop just before the mouth of the ally gasping for breath, hands resting on his knees as he coughed and spluttered to return the air to his lungs. He collected flem in the back on his throat before spitting it onto the floor, mumbling curses under his breath as he walked back in the direction of neon street. Seras waited for five minutes before breathing a sigh of relief. She still had the feeling of being watched but brushed it off as a stray animal. She was safe. Giggling to herself, she began to walk to the mouth of the ally before cold hands grabbed her forearms. It all happened so fast._

 _Seras can't recall much. Only that she was pulled back into a chest. She could smell something rancid and metallic on her attacker's breath. She could only see a red glow emanating from behind her before her head was wrenched to the side. She can still recall the pain. White hot pain as what felt like two thick needles slicing through her skin and muscle. She tried to scream, but found she couldn't as her muscle contracted around the needles causing even more pain. She could feel the hot blood flowing down her neck. She can remember the gulping and grunting her attacker made as he held her nearly lifeless body. Most importantly, she can still remember his groggy voice and what he said to her as he finished and threw her body to the cold wet floor, "One day, you'll thank me pitiful creature." Then, the poor 19 year old closed her eyes as her last breath left her._

 _That was the night Seras Victoria died. She was found the next morning, an old housewife had emerged from her garden to find the lifeless and bloodied body of the aspiring police officer._

 _Name: Seras Victoria_

 _Time of Death: 23:53 P.M 17/11/2008_

 _Cause of Death: Blood loss, attacked by a wild animal._

 _She was all over the news. Poor little police girl cut down before her time. People mourned and moved on. However, what the media left out was that the day after her death there was a break-in at the mortuary. Well, a break-out. The police girl no longer in her little ice box, doctors and police officers found dead and drained of blood. No one even got their hands on the tape of the young girl with bright red eyes._

 _On the day of Seras Victoria's funeral, it was an empty coffin that was lowered into the ground. All the while, she watched from the shadows a single red tear running down her cheek. Her human life was gone, her new life as Nosferatu had begun._


	2. Chapter I

**Hello everyone!**

 **May I just say a huge thank you to everyone, I did not expect that many reviews with so much support for a taster chapter. I've been nervous writing this chapter as I have doubts that it's not up to the same standard that you guys are expecting and that I worry that I've made the characters OOC. Please inform me if I have so I can rectify the problem, I want to make this story as enjoyable for you as possible.**

 **To those who asked, yes there will be romance between Alucard and Seras :) I love the pairing and I hope I can fully deliver to your expectations.**

 **Again, a massive thank you to everyone who reviewed they made me smile and brightened my day. Also a massive thank you to those who added this to their favourites list and followed, I hope to update this story on a regular basis for you guys :) xxxxx**

* * *

Chapter I: Rooms by the Hour.

Lips caught between teeth. Roaming hands groping at those sensitive body parts. It made Seras sick. She watched from the shadows, gazing up the corridor as the couple involved themselves in light foreplay before retreating into their hotel room rented by the hour. Now all she had to do was wait. Sighing, she crossed her arms and rested her back against the peeling wall.

Seras had been a vampire for roughly a year now. She knew all the tricks of the trade and more. For the first month or so of her new Nosferatu life she had been reckless, leaving a trail of bodies in her wake. Though, through trial and error she learned that biting virgins created vampires, which was a task in itself to clean up, and biting those who weren't pure created mindless zombies that were much easier to kill. That was when Seras made the decision to bite and drain those she was sure were not virgins, then destroy the bodies before her victims could turn. She haunted the shady hotel areas of London and decapitated her victims after draining them. She owed them that much.

Moans of ecstasy could be heard, soon followed by the faint squeak of springs from a worn mattress. If her victims were virgins before, they weren't now. This was the part she hated, listening to her victims make love whilst they were blissfully unaware of their imminent demise. She'd earned herself quite the reputation with the way she took care of the dead, addressed as 'The Headsman' amongst the media. The number of those who frequented the sorts of hotels which didn't ask questions as long as you paid upfront, had dwindled. They feared the prospect of being added to the long list of souls who had been unfortunate enough to encounter the mass murderer.

The moans became louder and the girl's lips pulled down into a frown of distaste. She was a child in both mind and heart still, the very idea of intercourse made her skin crawl. Shelly, another filing clerk at the station from Seras' human life, had blamed such thoughts on Seras never finding the right man. Seras agreed with her, but the man she had in mind she would most likely never come across. He existed exclusively in cliché fiction. Tall, dark and handsome was always a requirement; but Seras needed someone sweet with a sense of humour. She wanted someone passionate and protective. No man she had met possessed all those qualities.

Seras was pulled from her musings when she heard her quarries finish their excursions. She guessed the couple must be having an affair with one another when she could not hear the exchange of money, instead only hearing the shower spurt water. They were both vulnerable now; it was her time to strike. Using her inhuman speed she ran towards the door and broke the lock. The man located on the bed had hardly any time to react before Seras sunk her fangs into his neck. It was a messy affair. The blood spurted anywhere but her mouth. It was like a geiser, shooting up and spraying patterns on the walls and ceiling. Seras could feel it mat in her hair, along with the dried blood from months pervious. Normally her movements would be more precise and careful, but she was just so hungry. It must have been at least a week or so since her last feed. Whatever liquid she did collect in her mouth, she gulped down eagerly. It was like a fine wine, although slightly bitter by the subtle hint of fear she could taste. The man beneath her twitched as he took his last breath, the shock and fear permanently etched onto his face. Seras pulled back before the blood began to taste like sour milk. Blood from a dead body, whilst not harmful, made one's stomach churn violently. The vampire scoffed in distaste, his blood was splattered everywhere and it soaked up into the bed sheets. She was clumsy, starting to leave a trail again, but no matter. There was no time to dwell.

Seras jumped up and broke the bathroom door off the hinges. The vampire heard the woman give a shrill of terror as she pulled back the shower curtain. Seras unhinged her jaw and lunged for the jugular to stop the screaming. Surprisingly, she was able to swallow more blood this time. Whatever escaped her mouth ran down the pug hole. The Nosferatu could feel the hot water running down her cheeks as she set the dead body aside, and she just sat there not a care in the world. How long had it been since she was this warm? Combined with the fresh blood and the near scalding water, it was almost as if she were at that healthy 37 degrees again. Turning her gaze to the dead woman, she knew she had task to complete if she did not want them to suffer any longer.

Placing the woman's head in her lap, Seras dug her sharp talons into the bite marks she hand inflicted. Her fingernails sliced through the muscle with ease, she slid all four fingers on each hand into the neck all the way down to the knuckle, keeping her thumbs on the outside for extra support. Using all her strength, she pulled her hands away from each other. The sounds of wet tearing flesh assaulted her ears. She could feel the muscle and cartilage pull apart in little strings, it caught under her fingernails to add to the dirt already there. The rotten blood gushed and spurted from the increasing wound, droplets landing on Seras' face. At last the sound of a bone breaking resonated through out the area. It was immensely satisfying to the beast that had been growing inside Seras. She threw the head to the other side of the bath and quickly ran into the bedroom to finish the male off when she heard the familiar sounds of groaning.

She was exhausted be the time she returned to her abode. No longer being able to live in her flat, Seras was forced to relocate to the abandoned Victorian sewage system beneath London. She had to pick her tunnel carefully, but she found one no longer in service under a ghost street located on the outskirts of the old city. It was dark, but her eyes picked out every source of light from the cracks in the bricks to the shine through the grates. The water next to her feet was stagnant and offended the nose, but she had grown accustomed. She could hear the rats, squeaking and running away from her imposing figure. Once she came to her 'spot', she took her nail and added two lines to the wall. It was a ritual, one line for every victim. This was how she mourned. This was her way of saying sorry. From her peripheral vision, most of the bricks were decorated with these lines. The sight of it made Seras shed a red tear. This was also a regular occurrence. She didn't ask to be this monster. She didn't ask to kill people so that she may live. Hell, when she regained her senses she tried to starve herself to death, but the beast wouldn't let her. The beast wrapped its long fingers around her stomach and squeezed until the pain became unbearable.

She wiped the tear away with the back of her hand and opened the crate she used as a 'coffin'. She figured out this was a necessity after many sleepless nights. It was not large. She had to curl up into the fetal position if she wanted to fit in it. The smell of rotten potatoes assaulted her nose every time she opened the crate and she had woken up with more splinters than she could count every morning. She closed the lid and fell into slumber. She dreamed about her old life where she was safe and warm in her bed. Where her only worry was getting to work on time after she ignored her alarm clock. A bitter smile accompanied another tear.

* * *

Sir Integra was focused on the pictures of the latest case. Her intelligence officers arrived at the scene just an hour after the vampire left and faxed her the evidence, "How terrible." She said. Walter, her ever faithful butler, was by her side examining the photographs also.

"Indeed. That's the third one this month."

"Do we know anything new about the vampire?"

"No Sir Integra, the usual patterns have remained the same. Have done for some time now." They had been monitoring 'The Headsman' for over four months now, and had still not managed to even locate the infernal creature. Sir Integra threw down the photos and lit a cigar. This vampire was really starting to grate on her nerves. She was just thankful the bastard thing was not trying to raise up an army of ghouls.

"You seem tense, my master." The room was bathed in shadows before a red fedora emerged from the floor, revealing a body as it rose up into the air. Alucard had been eavesdropping again. Integra sighed, she really did not want to call Alucard in for this case. She believed that the soldiers should have a challenge, but it was obviously proving too much for them. They would be reprimanded for their incompetence. The distinguished Hellsing family could not afford to be incompetent; not with the Iscariot organisation observing their every move. Her cobalt eyes observed as her servant began to flick through the photographs, his manic grin widened with each image of the gory scene, "It's getting sloppy." The woman narrowed her eyes, blowing a thick plume of smoke that swirled in the air. She gestured for Walter to open a window.

"How can you tell?"

"There's more blood on the walls than in the stomach of the vampire by the looks of this. 'The Headsman' was in a hurry, not thinking clearly."

"You would know." A deep cuckle sent vibrations through the entire room, but Sir Integra refused to let her shivers show. Sighing, she crushed the cigar in the ashtray before steepling her hands under her chin, "Alucard, you have but one day to locate the vampire. If it's not found by tomorrow evening then Hellsing is in serious trouble. I can practically hear the Vatican mocking our failure. You know what will happen if we fail Alucard." She slammed her fist onto the desk as she rose from the chair, "Search and destory! Do not return to the estate until you kill the blasted thing!" Alucard's laugh echoed around the room as his form disintegrated into a thick red rog. Sir Integra could handly see a hand in front of her face. Her servant loved to be dramatic.

"Yes my master." With that, the fog was carried out the window by the chilling breeze. The shadows fleeted, and Sir Integra was left panting in anger as Walter left to prapare some herbal tea. His master was quite irritable when stressed and he liked his sleep.

* * *

Alucard arrived at the 'Swan Inn', the home of the latest crime committed by the 'Headsman'. The Nosferatu's lips pulled into a wide grin as he saw Scotland Yard swarming the place. They would never be able to track down the murderer, but it did give Alucard entertainment to see them try and fail miserably. Whilst he held a deep respect for humans, he could not help but laugh at their flaws. Leaning against a rain slicked wall, the vampire waited until the forensic team left and the hotel was closed up for the night. The oppertune moment had arrived.

It was easy getting past the guards, he simply suggested that they give into the temptations of sleep. He opened the door to the crime scene. The sight of glorious blood shed greeted his eyes. A head was located at the other side of the room, glazed eyes staring longingly at the body it used to accompany. Blood was in every corner and crevice of the room. Alucard gave a deep chuckle, he had not been this entertained in years. Removing his yellow-tinted glasses his eyes focused on the bed. There was a fine strand of short yellow hair located on the chest of the male victim. The No-Life King made his way over and delicately plucked the strand from its resting place. The vampire gave a grimance for he really despised what he was about to do. He brought the strand to his nose and inhaled deepy. A mixture of interesting scents infiltrated his sense of smell. He could distinguish months old blood; human waste; and something feminine. It was the faint aroma of floral perfume, quickly being overridden by all the other scents that clung to the vampire wherever it visited. So, the 'Headsman' was a female. All he had to do was trail the scent and he could find the woman by the first light of dawn. He was sure that her scent would be all over London, but all vampires had a dwelling. He would simply search for the area where her scent was strongest. The hunt had begun.

* * *

It had not taken long to find the home of the 'Headsman'. Alucard stood at the mouth of an abandoned Cul-De-Sac. The terraced houses were missing the tiles from the roofs and the windows gaped with jaged teeth, the glass smashed by young hooligans who found amusement in disturbing the rotting buildings. Alucard followed the scent to a grate in the middle of the worn road. So she was hiding in the sewers like a rat. His nose scrunched up in disgust. The vampire concentrated, he could feel his blood bubbling and his nerves tingling as his body changed to mist and seeped through the grate to form again in the sewer. He could sense her futher up the tunnel, and through the dim lighting he could see an old wooden crate. He could hear fainting snooring, perfect. He could kill the vampire with minimal effort and be back before sunrise. He stalked along the tunnel, taking caution to not step in the water and alert it to his presence. He deduced that the vampire was relatively new to life, not even being able to sense another vampire in the vacinity. Now that he thought about it, there was something familiar about it's aura that Alucard had encountered before. As he approached the makeshift coffin something caught his interest. On the walls were little lines, hundereds of them. Two looked fresh, the dust not having fallen off the newly gouged imperfect lines. He had seen this before. Some vampires liked to keep count of their victims. Smirking he turned to the crate and pulled out his gun. A quick shot to the heart and the reign of the 'Headsman' was over. Reaching down Alucard tore the lid off the crate and threw it down the tunnel, exposing one of the most pitiful and least expected sights he had ever come across.

There, curled up in the fetal position with tired and terrified eyes blinking up at him, was a girl who was frozen at the tender age of 19 and acted even younger. She was filthy, covered from head to toe in blood and God only knows what else and clad in a torn police uniform. She was paralysed with fear and incoherent words tumbled from her quivering lips. She was a girl. He had been ordered to kill a mere _girl_. He observed as she stared down the barrel of his gun. His finger was poised on the trigger. One shot and he could put the little police girl out of her misery. Yet he couldn't bring himself to do it. Sighing in irritation he placed the gun back into his coat and knelt to bring himself to eye level with her, being cautious to keep up his guard in case she was just a terribly good actress, "I'm not going to hurt you." His voice echoed off the tunnel walls, "Would you care to give me your name?" She remained silent for a long while. Alucard ran a gloved hand over his face, "It looks like I'll just have to call you 'Police Girl' then, but I suppose it is still an improvement from the 'Headsman' is it not?" He recieved a nod. His hearing was able to pick up her heart beating violently against her ribcage. Definitely not an act. He groaned, Sir Integra was not going to like what he was about to do. He held out a palm to her. She flinched back, afraid he would hit her, "Like I said, I'm not going to hurt you Police Girl. I'm just like you, a vampire. Had your master done the right thing, you would not be cowering in a sewer right now. It is idiotic to leave fledglings to fend for themselves. Come with me, I shall take care of you." To emphasise his point he removed his coat, being sure to tuck his gun into the waistline of his trousers, and wrapped it around her shoulders. It swarmed her, but he could tell that she was grateful for the extra warmth. The girl allowed him to pick her up bridal style and he carried her out of the sewers and down the deserted streets of London towards the Hellsing Estate.

* * *

"Were you successful?" Sir Integra questioned her servant. She furrowed her brows at the sight of Alucard. He was dishevled. Hair looking like he had raked his fingers through it multiple times in frustration, cravat loosened with the coat, fedora and glasses missing. He still managed that infernal grin though,

"Not everything went as planned." She choked on the smoke of her cigar as she stared at her subordinate. Stubbing the offensive stick of tobacco out in the ash tray, she spoke slowly the anger rising in her voice,

"Alucard, please tell me that the vampire is dead. You know what will happen if the Iscariot organisation realises we failed a simple task!"

"I need to show you something." Both Integra and Walter were taken back by the statement. So much so that they followed in silence as Alucard led them down to the dungeons and into his private quaters. They were even more perplexed as he led them to his coffin, his pride and joy, and lifted the lid to a most unexpected sight. There, wrapped up in a cocoon made from a red coat, was a young girl covered in filth sleeping and unaware of their presence. Alucard turned to them, "That, my master, is the 'Headsman'. I found her in an old crate located in the sewers. It seems that she is a new fledgling who hasn't even met her master."

"I ordered you to kill her." Sir Integra spit out through gritted teeth, "Not to bring her into my home."

"She has lasted this long on her own, making minimal mistakes and as less damage as possible. She's smart and capable. She may be of some use to us Sir Integra." Walter piped up, feeling sympathy for the small creature in Alucard's coffin.

"I don't think I could handle her roaming the estate if she's anything like Alucard. Athough, if she's trained properly she will boost our strength. That will give us an advantage over Iscariot." The Hellsing Head mused. She scrutinised the girl from behind her rounded specticles, "Does she have a name?"

"She hasn't spoken once, I just call her Police Girl."

"Very well. Alucard you shall be responsible for the Police Girl, make sure that she is fighting fit before the month is out. However, if she does not prove herself useful or capable of self control then I order you to put her down. Do I make myself clear?" With a hand over his heart, Alucard bowed mockingly to the woman,

"Yes, my master." Nodding in approval, Integra commenced towards the stairs, giving Walter orders to prepare a coffin for the next evening as well as a room. When he heard the dungeon door slam Alucard glanced at the girl once more. She buried her nose into his coat, finding comfort in his scent. Good, for her would be her new master. Yet she would never be a true vampire until she drank the blood of her creator. Placing the lid back over the coffin the No-Life King sat in his throne and rested his head on his fist. Perhaps if she proved herself worthy, he may track the scum down himself so that she may gain the status of a true vampire. Things were going to become entertaining now.


End file.
